Flipped
by AlmostGolden
Summary: What would happen if Zach and Cammie switched bodies during an exchange?  Remember, if you like it; review!
1. Prologue

**Don't yell at me! I know I've got stories to update, but this one was just calling me and I had to give it a shot. This is just a prologue, but it'll make sense when I get the next chapter up. So yeah, this is Flipped (sorry, couldn't think of a better name!) I'm totally open to name suggestions, guys, and so read and tell me if you like it. Oh, and for all intents and purposes of this story, Ioseph Cavan wasn't killed when he was trying to assassinate Lincoln.**

**Summary: What would happen if the Circle of Cavan wasn't after Cammie and they did another exchange? What if, somehow, using advanced CIA technology, Cammie and Zach switched bodies? Would it bring them together or just tear them apart?**

**Disclaimer: Consider it disclaimed xP**

Picture a room.

Dark. Dank. Musty. With a low ceiling and moist brown walls and a single bulb in the center of this horribly grim room.

Now, add a girl. A pretty girl she is. All blonde ringlets and rosy cheeks, thick lashes and ruffles and petticoats. Cute, huh?

But I want you to make a few changes.

Rip the girl's puffy sleeves off, and add bruises to her porcelain skin. Rope her down to a rickety chair, but leave her eyes alone.

Blue. Baby Blue. But filled not with fear.

Determination.

"Quick, we haven't got much time," a tall young man said as he burst into the grim room holding the girl with the mussed ringlets. Without so much as a second glance to the beautiful girl (for she was even beautiful with blood marring her full pink lips and usually rosy cheeks), he strode to one wall and began to check the chamber for listening devices. These were developed recently by the CIA, and were hard to come by as they were still in the prototype stage. However, he couldn't be sure.

Cavan might've gotten his slimy hands on some.

Meanwhile, two women followed him in, breathing a bit harder from the effort of dragging their full skirts. The girl in the chair made a note in her mind of how cumbersome these stifling gowns were. A raven-haired beauty was in the lead, with features that seemed of Asian descent, and a petite redhead who couldn't have been more than sixteen followed.

"Brian?" Our leading lady (for now) exclaimed. However, soon the surprise on her face turned to anger. "What the devil are you doing here?"

Seemingly satisfied with his search results, the man, who shall now be called Brian, turned to the furious maiden. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked, his hazel eyes twinkling. "I'm saving my beautiful woman."

Scoffing, the young woman – nineteen, perhaps? – rose form the chair; her bonds broken by the two other females in the room.

"Brian, I am _not_ you woman! Silly, sexist pig!"

"Gills, calm down. I'm merely messing with you. Now listen closely to the plan to get out of this hellhole."

"No! I'm Gillian Gallagher! I don't _need saving!_" she childishly responded.

"And I'm Brian Blackthorne and I don't give a damn! Obviously you needed saving, two minutes ago you were tied to a chair, battered and bruised!"

The girl, Gillian, contorted her face with rage and indignation before shouting (quietly and lady like, of course), "I knew what I was doing! I had it all under control! I'm just as competent as you –"

"With that a large, tan, calloused hand covered her delicate lips.

"Shh, Gilly, you'll wake your captors. I know you're just as great a spy as me, you may be better. But right now we _need to get out of here._ So please," with this his golden eyes turned dark and pleading, "_please_, listen to the plan."

Eyes wide and face flushed, Gillian nodded slowly, following his hand as it made its way away from her mouth. "Alright."

Smiling slightly, and a bit apologetically, Brian Blackthorne pulled out two clear earpieces and held them out.

Her response was instantaneous.

"_No_," she gasped. "Definitely _not._ Do you realize how dangerous that would be?"

"Gills. Gill, listen to me," the tall young man forced the girl, who must have been almost ten inches shorter than him, to look him in the eye by coaxing her chin up with an index finger. "It's even more dangerous leaving you unprotected. You're the bravest, strongest, fiercest woman out there, and nobody can afford to lose you." He took a deep breath and peeked out at her under his thick lashes before saying, "and I'm no exception."

Catching her breath, Gillian replied softly, "But – But I – Who?"

For the first time, the Asian beauty spoke up. "It would be Little Eliza here, milady,"

"Call me Gillian, please," the blonde murmured distractedly. Eliza? Would that be the tiny flame headed girl next to (Wendeline, her mind supplied. She had seen her around the mansion.). "Why, she's not but a child! Brian!" she cried turning to him. "I'd be putting a tiny thing not past the age of innocence into pure danger, Brian. I can't do that."

Impatiently, Brian shook his head. "Gillian Gallagher, we do not have much time to ourselves. You need to agree, Gills. How old were you when you first faced Ioseph?"

"Fourteen," she blushed. "But that's completely beside the point. I grew up differently and – "

She gasped and thrust herself into Brian's arms and chest at the last moment as a silver dagger whipped towards her head. She dodged it but just barely. Shocked, Gillian watched a small lock of her hair float to the ground as the knife stuck in the moldy wall. Turning towards the small girl, Eliza, she raises an eyebrow.

"I assure you," the girl begins in a dainty voice. "That I am quite capable, miss."

Chuckling, Gillian Gallagher stepped away from the warmth and security of Brian Blackthornes arms (a bit reluctantly) and said, "I should have known," and held out her manicured hand for an earpiece.

"Yes, you know me better than that. I would never, ever put a youthful dame in danger unless I thought they had your fight in them," the golden eye winked at her and her heart rate sped up a bit. Covering it up by putting on a brisk attitude she adopted an unspoken role as co-leader of the mission.

"Alright then, Eliza, come here," the young girl did as she was told. "Now, after you place this earpiece in, you_ know _what will happen, correct?"

"Of course," Eliza piped up. "I _was_ briefed. When we both insert the earpieces, our bodies will be switched. So I'll be Eliza inside the infamous Gillian Gallagher's body, and you'll be Miss Gallagher inside my body."

"Right, then, Eliza, Gills, go ahead," Brian said, glancing at his pocket watch.

Locked eyes, amber ones belonging to a five foot even girl with red hair; and baby blues, property of a 5'4" blonde woman. The two teenagers insert the earpieces into their ears nervously, either knowing what could happen.

After all, these hadn't exactly been tested…

And it was obvious that despite his high clearance level, Brian hadn't exactly had permission to use them.

Wendeline and Brian stifled gasps of shock as both girls began to shimmer a bit at their edges and curves. Beautifully dangerous. Finally, their glow became so bright that Wendeline had to avert her eyes, but Brian just squinted to see what was happening to his true love. Eliza.

Kidding, of course.

But Brian had been in love with Gilly ever since their families had had tea together when they were at the slight age of seven. He had pulled the chair out for the girl a bit too much and she'd landed on her arse. Instead of embarrassedly rushing inside as most young ladies would have, she humphed, got up (ignoring his outstretch hand), and landed him a swift kick to the groin. After that, she took a seat, spread her napkin in a lady like manner, and beamed at the confused parents as she took a bite of a biscuit.

At that moment, as he was rolling around on the tea pavilion, clutching his family jewels in a very un-gentleman like manner, he knew he was in love.

Slowly a shadow seemed to come out of Gillian's chest, as well as Eliza's. They switched spots and quickly, entered into the others body with a jolt.

"Oofh," Gillian – I mean Eliza, in Gillian's body, said.

"You guys alright?" Brian walked straight up to Gillian's body and wrapped his arms around her.

A giggle emitted from Gillian's lips. "Mr. Blackthorne, sir, I believe that Ms. Gillian is over there," and Eliza pointed to her own body.

"Oh, err, I knew that," Brian choked out as he ran a hand through his hair and took Eliza's hand instead. "Anyway, Eliza and Wendeline, you'll stay here and when the guards walk in, Wendeline hits them in the head with the weapon we've brought" (the weapon being a crowbar) "and then you both escape. You'll meet us at the rendezvous point if they hopefully haven't noticed us."

"And then," Gillian in Eliza's body said, "Eliza and I will switch bodies back quickly in case there's a fight."

Brian sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand but didn't argue with the girl.

So the two highly trained operatives left the room and quickly found an air duct. Right before Brian's eyes, Gillian ripped off much of her full skirt, leaving her bare from the knees down. Quickly, being the gentleman that he was, Brian covered his eyes and asked incredulously, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Gills? We haven't even courted yet, and this is hardly the place!"

Giggling a bit, she said, "Relax, Brian. This is just so I can actually _fit _in those vents. I'll tell you, you mean have got it easy with trousers and stockings."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Gills, let me give you a boost up." Averting his eyes, he lifted the small girl as if she were weightless and followed her into the vents. After about twenty seven minutes and forty three seconds of crawling, they came to the rendezvous point. Opening the ventilation grate, they both dropped down; Brian going first and catching Gillian.

After about two minutes of waiting around for their partners in this rescue mission, Gillian and Brian began to grow worried.

"Where could they be? Surely they weren't caught? Perhaps, perhaps… Oh no! I've got a different strength level and weight than Eliza! What if she's messed up because of the changes in her body! Oh dear…"

"Relax," Brian said. "They'll be fine," The same couldn't be said for Brian though. Even though it was Eliza's body, and he was the epitome of a gentleman, he knew that it was Gilly in there who had bared her legs in front of him, and was finding it hard to focus on anything else.

At that moment, the two burst into the private chamber. "Quickly, quickly! They're coming!" Wendeline shrieked.

No sooner had Gilly and Eliza switched back then Ioseph Cavan himself entered, along with two of his guards.

"Oh, well if it isn't little Gillian," he sneered. Ioseph Cavan was a handsome man, one who could actually look good wearing a sneer. Slicked back pale blonde hair and icy blue-gray eyes. Two inches shorter than Brian, yet still at an imposing height. Both men were fit, and _both _had competed for Gillian Gallagher's affections. "I see you've escaped. You look a bit… _worse for the wear._ Perhaps you wouldn't be in this predicament if you had taken part in our courtship two years ago," he finished bitterly.

Without wasting any time in allowing Gilly to answer him, Brian punched him square in the jaw and after that, excuse the cliché, but hell broke loose.

While Wendeline and Eliza took on the two guards, Brian and Ioseph were duking it out in a long overdue combat. Gillian was trying to intervene but Brian kept pushing her back. "We've got to settle this Gill; he needs to know that you don't belong to him." She was about to protest when he added, "You don't _belong _to anyone." And with that, she knew she couldn't argue.

So she landed a lethal kick to the side of one guard's neck, and administered the Litzsky Maneuver with Wendeline to the other, effectively knocking him out for a few hours.

When she glanced over at the two men, however, her hopes were dashed. Although Brian was more skilled in combat, he wasn't armed and Ioseph was holding a silver dagger. As she caught Eliza's guilty eye, she realized with a jolt that it had been the ornate one that had nearly severed her head off her shoulders. With a (very feminine) screech of rage, she ran to Ioseph Cavan, and removed the sword slung across a holster in his belt.

With one clean slash of his own sword, Ioseph Cavan was no more.

**So, that was just a prologue! Not the actual story, it just kind of sets up the plot, you know? Adds some background information on those 'special earpieces'. Anyway, this is kind of based off of hot chick, but only the body switching part. I'm actually hoping my story will turn out nothing like that movie because, well, it sucked. No offense Rachel McAdams, you were young then. But uh, yeah! Tell me what you think of the idea, and if you think the story would be good! (Goode?)**

**Also, check out my one shot I just posted called 'That Gift from Cupid' and if you like Percy Jackson or Big Time Rush (yeah, I'm a little old for them. But they're so cute!) I have some stories for those 'shippings' too.**

**Okay gurlies (guylies if there are any reading this?) click that little review button right down there.**

**That's it.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Wow. Okay, So after almost a year, I'm finally updating. This is a replacement for my old chapter one because I hated that one and I like this one so much better. It's totally different though; I think almost nothing is the same so you should definitely read this. It's changing up the whole entire story as I saw it in my head.**

**I would really appreciate it if you could still review, even if you reviewed last time, just so I can know what you think. Thanks, and enjoy!**

**~Flipped~**

It's funny how things work out sometimes.

If you had, in September, told me that I would willingly participate in any sort of interaction with Zach Goode (minus P&E, of course), I would've told you not to hang out by the Gallagher Experimental Lab anymore. Not that they're, you know, testing anything dangerous there.

But what's even more unbelievable (less believable?) is how I actually got to this state of, well, tolerance. Although you could say it's a bit more than that.

Honestly, you're probably kind of confused. Or at least, coming to the wrong conclusion. You probably think that Zach and I didn't get along, but realized through some normal teen angst story that we have more in common than we thought, and now we're living happily ever after.

So wrong.

I mean, you're kind of right. About the beginning. Zach and I abhorred each other at the beginning of senior year, and I was expecting to graduate feeling the same way, until he eventually floated to the back of my mind as I kicked ass in the real world. He wouldn't disappear of course; I _am_ a Gallagher Girl.

But about the middle? Way off. Nothing about what's happened to me this year has been normal. Not even a second of it. And my happily ever after… well let's just say my knight in shining armor took one look at the dragon, decided the Princess wasn't worth it, and rode home.

Let me stop there. You need the full story. I've got to warn you though; it's kind of long…

**~Flipped~**

September is probably my favorite month of the year. The weather is still warm, but it's got that crisp air and biting smell that lets you know that fall is here. It's also the time that people break out the spiced coffees, cable sweaters, and rakes; but you can still find kids riding around on their bikes after school wearing shorts and drinking lemonade. It's two seasons in one, really.

But the main reason I love September, is because school starts again.

I know most kids hate September for this reason; or at least September after the first exciting two weeks.

School for me, however, doesn't mean getting colorful gel pens and a brand new outfit; it means going home after a boring summer. I'm not even going to get into what goes on at my school; after all, if you're reading this, you probably know the big "secret" of the Gallagher Academy. But that secret's like Fight Club; the first rule is that you don't talk about it.

This year, the year the shit really hit the fan (whatever the hell that means), was my last year here at my favorite place in the world. It was supposed to go off without a hitch; in contrast to my sophomore and junior years.

This year, I was the Chameleon again. Unnoticeable, calm, master of blending. Nobody would notice I was here.

At least, that was the plan. Until Zachary Goode and his cronies made their grand entrance.

If there was one thing I'd learned about Zachary Goode after two years of knowing him, it was that he and I were exact opposites, except for our love of soccer. Zach loved attention; so much that when the spotlight wasn't on him, he was like a sad puppy.

Except not nearly as cute. At least that's what the pre-switch Cammie thought.

That's how I've been referring to myself lately; pre-switch and post-switch Cammie. I'm fairly sure that they're two totally different people. I'm actually pretty sure that I'm a totally different person stuck in the body of pre-switch Cam. No pun intended, of course.

Oh, wait. You wouldn't really get that yet, would you?

One thing that you should know before we get into this whole "switch" business, is that although Zach and I really, really disliked (note the past tense; it gets important. Foreshadowing, anyone?) each other, it was never outwardly acknowledged. We were always civil in public, especially in class, but that's not to say that we got along. We just didn't deal with our dislike the way, well, _normal_ people would.

I for one, avoided and ignored him at all costs (I'm very anti-confrontation, see), and shot him dirty looks that he wasn't supposed to see but occasionally caught.

He took a more sly approach.

Like I said before, Zach _loves_ attention. And I hate it. What's one way to satisfy Zach's daily quote for attention seeking _and_ annoying Cammie? Why, flirting with her, of course!

I'm going to stop you right there. This isn't one of those stories where the guy flirts with the girl, the girl thinks he's just doing it to annoy her, but secretly he's in love with her.

No.

Zach and I have been over this, during the "switch." I mean, oftentimes we were the only ones we could talk to during it. We got pretty close. We _were_ pretty close. For a while.

No, Zach flirted with me purely to get on my nerves; I know this because he confessed to wanting to "bone" Eva Alvarez the whole time. Not a blow to my ego or anything.

So, yeah. This was the whole basis to our non-relationship. I say 'non' because, well, disliking someone with a passion isn't exactly a defined _thing_. It's just there.

Just like those damned earpieces that started the whole thing.

**~Flipped~**

Professor Buckingham rapped her ruler against a desk at the front of the room. "Ms. Walters. Care to stop examining your nails and recount Gillian Gallagher's final escape from Ioseph Cavan?"

"Sorry, Professor. Gilly was trapped for days, but managed to untie herself with a hair comb and snuck out; using Cavan's own sword, she killed him." Tina recited quickly.

Wow. Sorry, just thinking back now… it's hilarious how anybody, Zach and myself included, believed that story. Gilly's amazing and everything, but it's pretty farfetched. She was good, but so was Cavan.

"Right." Professor Buckingham continued with her lecture. "Now, you all are going to pair up, boy/girl, and reenact your interpretation of the founder of our school's battle with Ioseph Cavan. This project will be graded on how intricate your battle sequence is, and the historical accuracy of it."

The room was filled with titters as soon as the words "pair" and "up" were out of the old woman's mouth, but she spoke over them nonetheless. "_For instance_, if you perform the 'Wronsky Maneuver,' points _will_ be taken off. That maneuver wasn't validated by the CIA until almost forty-five years after the founding of this Academy." She took a moment to peer around the room over her half-moon spectacles. "Are all of you clear on the assignment?" After receiving a few nods and some half-hearted responses of "Yes, ma'am," she sighed. "Alright then. You'll have two months for this. Yes, _two months_. I'm expecting top quality preparation and planning."

I leapt into action finding a partner. I'd never talked to the boy I ended up with, but in class he was relatively quiet, always on time; never goofing off. This was the kind of partner I needed. He'd actually do the work.

"So," Tommy Clifford, my partner, started, "I was thinking that we should start with some research, of course. We should definitely brush up on the dates of validation on some of the maneuvers we know." At this he looked up and smiled a small, close-lipped smile. "We wouldn't want to get any points off." Tommy was cute; if a bit uptight.

"Yeah, sure. We haven't covered any of the history of techniques since freshman year, so I'm sure I've forgotten the details." I frowned. "But there's one problem. We don't know all of the techniques that Gilly probably would have. After all, she was two years older than us, and way more experienced."

"Yeah, that's true. But I think that we should just stick with what we know. We'll be able to pull it off cleanly." Tommy stated, looking down at his notes.

"Yeah, but – "

"Oh, _no._ I am _not_ allowing you two to work _together._ That would be an absolute _disaster._" Professor Buckingham's voice rang out over the rising din of the class.

I think that this moment, right here, is where my senior year started to go wrong. It's a shame; I was only a month and a half in.

When I turned in my seat like the rest of the class, I saw Zach and Grant sitting together, grinning at the old lady who looked like she was about to have a massive coronary. "But Professor Buckingham, we work so well together!" Grant persuaded.

"Yeah, Pats, you wouldn't have to worry about us getting into a huge argument over a ruined skirt like Morrison and Walters last year," Zach winked. The two girls he'd referenced in his argument flushed deeply; Professor Buckingham, however, just sighed deeply.

"For the last time, Mr. Goode. You are _not permitted_," she enunciated every consonant, "To call me _Pats._ Nor are you allowed to call me Patricia, Patty, Trish, or any other variation of my given name." She then pinched the bridge of her nose and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, as if maybe someone from above would swoop down and take Zach away.

Funny. I felt the same way.

"I will not allow you and Mr. Newman to work together. You are far too… _disruptive_. And immature. And neither of you have _any_ work ethic in any way, shape, or form. I wouldn't see your presentation until the day before graduation." She scanned the room again with eyes so sharp, they could only belong to a teacher.

And here's where it all went to hell.

"Ms. Morgan!" I froze. "Mr. Goode, you'll be working with Ms. Morgan. I trust she'll be able to keep you from stepping over the line and getting into more trouble than you usual are in." I think that, at this point, my heart had stopped beating. "Mr. Newman, you'll work with Cameron's old partner." With that, she wiped her hands, as if that took care of everything. "Back to work, everyone!"

This wasn't possible.

I wouldn't have to work with Zach Goode for _two months_.

Definitely not.

There's no way Professor Buckingham, arguably one of the more sane teachers here at Gallagher, would force me to spend so much time with him.

Maybe if I said it enough it'd come true.

**~Flipped~**

"Alright, let's get one thing straight."

This was the first thing I said as I slammed my books down on the corner table in the smaller first floor library. I was still pissed off from History of Espionage a week before; when I found out I had to work with the biggest idiot I knew on a huge project. It was only worse now that said idiot was stretched out across two chairs and smirking lazily at me. I swiped his legs off my seat and sat down, scowling.

"And what would that 'one thing' be?" He responded, looking up through his lashes. Ugh. Stupid him tilting his chair back on two legs. People could get hurt like that.

"I don't like you," At his widening smirk, I added, "as you probably know. And I just think that you should know that if I had my way, I would _not_ be working with you on this. I wouldn't work with you on _anything_."

Still teetering on two chair legs, he said, "Right. You'd rather work with Clifford. The worlds most boring person." He paused, seeming to think something over. "Nice guy, though."

I sighed. This was going to be harder than I thought. "Look. We need to get this done. So let's just work on it as much as we can, and hopefully we'll get it down soon. Then I won't have to see you outside of class anymore. Being civil to you actually gives me a headache."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, that wasn't exactly very civil right there." Then, the infamous Zach Goode smirk came out. "I'm just trying to work peacefully with my gorgeous partner. Have I mentioned you look stunning today?"

Ugh. "Only about six times or so at last count." Cue eye roll.

"Well, you're so beautiful that saying it just once doesn't quite capture it."

Barf.

**~Flipped~**

That's basically how our meetings for the first three weeks went, until we only had a little over a month to prepare our whole project.

"Zach, quit it!" As the boy in front of me made a huge mess (that no doubt _I _would have to clean up), I scowled. This was starting to become my permanent expression – at least around Zach.

And let's face it; I was now around Zach pretty much _all the time_.

Between classes and working on our projects; _plus_ the fact that our friends were friends… well, there was no escaping the damn boy.

"Come on, Cams, live a little," he replied, looking up at his surroundings. I had decided that, since Zach had the attention span of a log, researching in the library wouldn't do us much good. We were now skulking about in one of my more recently discovered passageways; it lead to some sort of library that I hadn't had time to peruse. The place was filled with historical information, but I mainly used it to take a nap between classes when I was too lazy to go all the way back to my room.

"I _am_ living. See? Breathing and everything. That doesn't mean I have to make a huge mess!" I glanced behind me back at the dark passage. "Besides, you're making so much noise. Somebody's going to here us, and I'm pretty damn sure we're _not_ supposed to be in here." I huffed.

"Besides," I went on, blowing my bands out of my face, "I brought you here for _research._ Not so you could throw around books that are probably almost ten times as old as us!" I have to admit I was kind of disappointed when I looked up at him (he was climbing the shelves, trying to get to the insanely high, cavernous ceiling) and saw that he wasn't even attempting to make it seem like he was listening to me. "Zach, are you even hearing what - "

But I was cut off with a quick "Hang on, Cams," to which I rolled my eyes and, unfortunately, barely refrained from stomping my foot.

I watched with equal parts curiosity and annoyance as he easily made his way down the shelves, but was too preoccupied with my desire to yell at him to notice what he was holding until he was standing right in front of me.

I stared at the white box warily. "What's that?" I asked, meeting Zach's green eyes.

Those green eyes then rolled themselves at me. "Well I haven't exactly opened it yet, have I?"

Ahh, there it is. The scowls back.

I snatched the box out of his large hands, shooting him my dirtiest look as I did so, and opened it.

"…earpieces?"

Huh. Yeah, I know. Not exactly some huge discovery. But trust me; those things changed my life.

They were fancy earpieces; definitely not the practice Comms we used during Cove Ops. These things were so delicate looking; completely transparent. You almost wouldn't know they were there. I say 'were' because Zach and I haven't seen those earpieces in a while. Confiscated. Not that I care; those things were nothing but trouble.

"This is so bizarre," Zach said, running a hand through his dark hair. "Those are the weirdest looking Comms I've ever seen."

"I know right?" I picked one up, carefully, and held it up to the source of the dim lighting in the library; a lone bulb in the center of the high, stone ceiling. "These things must have been here for a long time; look, the box is all dusty."

Zach was shaking his head, but I could see a little twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Oh, no.

"Want to put them in?"

Oh, God.

"Zach," I sighed. "We can't do that. Who knows who's worn these?"

"Please, I _know_ that Liz makes you carry around a little 'Emergency Germ Fighter Kit.' No offense," sure, buddy, "but your best friend is kind of freaky."

I'm sort of ashamed to say that I didn't dispute that; it's kind of true.

What could it hurt to try these on? I mean, they looked kind of weird, but they were honestly the coolest earpieces I'd seen. Much better than those gross white ones we wear during field trips. Those things are worse than iPod ear buds.

Besides, what's the worst a pair of _earpieces_ can do?

"Fine," I relented eventually.

As Zach grinned at me, and my pulse quickened (at his ugliness, obviously), I clarified, "_Only_ for a minute. After that we're taking them off and putting them right back where they came from. And we're never mentioning this to anyone." I raised an eyebrow. "Got it, Goode?"

"Got it."

And so here we come to the last fifteen seconds of my life as 'pre-switch Cammie.' As Zach and I both put in one of the earpieces, I started getting kind of fuzzy. My vision blurred around the edges and I got a massive headache. My fingers and toes were tingling, and it felt like my core was tied to a rope, and the rope was pulling me towards Zach's body, but my feet couldn't move.

"Zach?" I tried to ask, but I don't think anything came out. At this point I couldn't feel my mouth, or tongue, or anything else for that matter.

Everything went bright. Then black.

**~Flipped~**

**Reviews are like sunshine and daisies and all that good stuff.**

**-Katie**


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